The Strife of Riley
by Pjazz
Summary: Riley Dawson. Allison Young. Cameron Baum. Bound together by the Past their destinies converge in the Present. Final chapter. Endgame. With Riley cornered Cameron moves in for the kill. Allison Young's fate hangs in the balance.
1. Chapter 1

**THE STRIFE OF RILEY**

**A Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles**

**Fanfic**

**by Pjazz**

**2009**

_Tomatoes! So many tomatoes. Row after row. All fresh and juicy and different colours, shapes and sizes. Red, yellow, orange - even a weird stripey one. Who knew?_

Riley Dawson knew she'd zoned out for a moment. Stood in the produce aisle of a shopping mart, holding tight to a trolley with a vacant faraway expression on her face. Jesse called it her 'walkabout' moment, an Oz expression that meant something between a mystic trance and a daydream. Jesse usually ended it by punching her on the arm and telling her bluntly to snap out of it.

_But Jesse isn't here._

The produce aisle seemed to go on for ever. So much fruit and vegetables. And all of it fresh. Not like in the future - her past - when fruit and veg were scarce and those that did make it up the supply line from the farms in Mexico were usually small and hard or overipe verging on mush. But you ate it anyway. Scurvey, that vitamin deficiency affliction that beset sailors in the 18th century, was making a comeback in the 21st. Lack of vitamin C caused your gums to bleed and your teeth to fall out, so you ate what you could when you could and were grateful for it.

"Excuse me, miss. Coming through."

Riley stepped aside as two fat people, a man and a woman, squeezed past pushing two fully laden shopping trollies. Fat didn't even begin to describe them. They were gargantuan. That was another thing the future lacked - fatties. They'd gone the way of the dinosaurs, whose bulk these two closely resembled. Survival of the fittest.

Perhaps her body language betrayed her thoughts because the fat woman turned and stared sullenly back at her. Riley quickly looked away. If Jese was here she'd face them right down. Call them tubbos or - what was it? Gut-something? Gutbuckets. That was it. Gutbuckets. Hilarious! And Jesse wouldn't care if she caused a scene, relish it in fact.

_I miss you, Jesse._

Riley added the stripey tomatoes to her cart out of curiosity more than anything. The cart already held milk, eggs and three large microwavable pizzas. Not that she could afford to be complacent. She'd put on twelve pounds since coming through the time portal, most of it fortunately on her boobs and ass.

_Not that John seems to notice._

She steered the trolley past the pet food aisle, watching as a well-dressed woman loaded up with three twelve-packs of canned dogfood.

_Here even the animals eat better than we did._

Riley wondered what this patrician lady would think if she was told in couple of years she'd be happy to eat her dog, cherished family pet or not. Any animal from the cockroach up. It was all precious protein. Even rats. And no, rats didn't taste like chicken; they looked and tasted like rats.

_And I should know; I ate my fair share. Hating every morsal. Alison made me. _

Alison...

_"Colonel Dawson, I'm getting reports of a metal incursion in the southern sector!"_

_"Numbers?"_

_"Unknown, sir. Wait -- that's confirmed. Defences breached in the southern sector."_

_"Who do we have in reserve?"_

_"Major Alvarez's brigade, sir."_

_"Comm, get me Major Alvarez ASAP."_

_"Colonel, eastern sector reports metal advancing in significant numbers. They're falling back."_

_"Comm, where's Major Alvarez?"_

_"I'm trying, sir. No reply."_

_"Redeploy the mortar squad to the east. I want the flanks held at all cost. Corporal, evacuate the women and children above ground. And arm them."_

_"Arm them? Sir, with respect, many of the women are sick and some are pregnant."_

_"What d'you suggest, Corporal - that we let those monsters barbecue them in the tunnels? At least this way if we get overun they stand a chance, slim though it may be."_

_"Permission to speak, sir."_

_"What's on your mind, corporal?"_

_"I'd like to try and get the children out. They're small and fast. I know this area. I think there might be a chance if we hurry."_

_"What's your name, young lady?"_

_"Young, sir. Alison Young."_

_"How old are you - eighteen, nineteen?"_

_"Fifteen."_

_"Why you're a child yourself. D'you have any combat experience?"_

_"I served under Colonel Westmore at the Mulholland Redoubt. And Major Forbisher during the attack on the Cumberland heavy water plant."_

_"Nate Frobisher? He was a good man."_

_"Yes, sir, he was. He spoke highly of you."_

_"Now's not the time for flattery, corporal."_

_"No, sir, I guess not."_

_"Colonel! Northern sector reports multiple line breaches. Triple-8's on the ground armed with plasma cannon with HK air support. Looks like a major offensive. Heavy casualties. We're being overwhelmed. ETA ten minutes."_

_"Dammit, where's Alvarez?"_

_"Still nothing, sir."_

_"Commander, northern sector are in full retreat."_

_"Retreat? Where exactly? This is a classic pincer movement. Textbook. And we don't have the resources to counter it. Captain Reed, implement Operation Scorched Earth. Burn the codebooks and the maps."_

_"Yessir!"_

_"Comm, open an encrypted channel to Connor HQ. Send this message. Citadal Has Fallen. All Birds Have Flown. Repeat, Citadal Has Fallen. All Birds have Flown."_

_Yessir!"_

_" Gentlemen, I suggest we prey to whatever Gods we still believe in and prepare to sell our lives dearly. Corporal Young?"_

_"Sir?"_

_"Take the children. Do what you can."_

_"Yessir."_

_"Corporal, my daughter, Riley..."_

_"I'll take care of her, sir."_

_"Tell her...Tell her..."_

_"I will."_

_"Thank you. Good luck. And Godspeed, Alison."_

_"And you, Colonel Dawson."_

_"Sir, Connor HQ on the line! They're sending reinforcements!"_

_"ETA?"_

_"Forty minutes."_

_"Just in time to give us a decent burial. Lock and load, gentlemen. Let's give these tin cans a rattle or two before we're done."_

_"INCOMING!"_

"Will there be anything else?"

"Huh?"

"I said, will there be anything else?"

She was in line at the checkout. Her stuff had been scanned and now the cashier wanted payment. She'd had another walkabout moment.

"Uh, no, that's it. Sorry. I was miles away."

"Somewhere nice?"

"What?"

"You said you were miles away. Somewhere nice?"

Riley stared at the girl. Late teens. Striped company uniform. Plain face and dull-looking hair enlivened by some blue-dyed strands amid the mouse. _Probably thinks it makes her look daring, adventurous, cool. _

"Actually, no. It wasn't nice." Riley found herself confessing. "It was horrible. More than you'll ever know. It's dark and cold in the tunnels and smells of shit and dead people. And I'm always frightened and hungry and can't sleep even though I'm really really tired because those things will catch me and kill me if I do and I don't want to die!"

The checkout girl held up her hands in a placatory gesture. "Hey, just making conversation. Don't have a cow."

"I won't..." Riley peered at the girl's nametag pinned to her top. "...Soosin." _Soosin? Susan? _

_Daring, adventurous and cool._

"Soosin? You gotta be kidding me."

"Hey--"

Above the nametag was a button badge. Around the circumference was written:

YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE MAD TO WORK HERE BUT IT HELPS

Riley began to laugh. Softly at first, then building up a head of steam until her jaws hurt and tears streamed from her eyes and ran down her cheeks so that people stopped what they were doing and stared at her.

Like she was crazy.

She stowed the pizza, milk and eggs in the refrigerator at her foster parents house. She popped one of the weird stripey tomatoes in her mouth. The juice exploded against her tastebuds, cold and sharply acidic, ripe with the earth's natural bounty. The pristine earth, uncontaminated by the machines.

Except one.

Her. John's sister.

_Hah! Sister, my butt._

The keys to the family Taurus were on a small hook by the door. Above it a small sign read:

Mommie's Car

What a crock! It belonged to the social services who leased it to them to ferry the kids back and forth to school.

_Screw them._

Riley took the keys off the hook and headed outside. Her foster parents were in the garden playing with the smaller kids in the sunshine, throwing a ball back and forth, bonding. Singing that stupid song they loved:

This is our Happy House!

We're Happy here!

In our Happy House!

_Christ Almighty, will it ever stop? _

_Sodapops and ritilin_.

_Like it matters. Like it all matters a good goddamn._

The key slid home and the Taurus' engine started on the first twist. She backed out of the driveway, drove to the end of the road and stopped. Leaning forward against the seatbelt restraints she booted up the SatNav and input one word. Her destination.

PALMDALE

Palmdale. Alison had talked about it so often and in such vivid detail that Riley felt she already knew the place, like she'd lived here in a previous life.

_"The streets are lined with eucalyptus trees that scent the air day and night. Birds nest in them and sometimes if you're lucky you'd spot a squirrel leaping from branch to branch."_

_"I like squirrels. They're tasty!"_

_"My house has a garden with a white picket fence. In the window is a figurine of a sleepy Mexican wearing a big sombrero. We called him Pedro. Mom bought him in Acapulco."_

_"What's a sombrero?"_

_"A type of hat Mexicans wear with a very wide brim."_

_"I want a sombrero!"_

_"Now, Riley, you'll have to wait and see what Santa brings you for Christmas."_

_"Screw, Santa, I want it now!"_

_"Riles, you know Santa keeps a list of who's naughty or nice?"_

_"Uh huh."_

_"Well then. Zip it, missy."_

_"Jessica Minter says if you're naughty Santa sends a Triple-8 down the chimney and it cuts your head off and sticks it on a pole."_

_"Sounds like Jessica Minter's been eating her sugar ration all in one go."_

_"Alison, tell me some more about Palmdale. Please!"_

_"Well, in the spring the cherry trees flower and drop their blossom on the sidewalks. The blossom's so thick it looks like snow. It's beautiful, it really is."_

_"Will I see it someday, Alison?"_

_"No, babe. It's lost in the Past. Like so many things."_

_"But I want to smell the eucalyptus!"_

_"So do I, sweetie, so do I."_

Riley Dawson smelt the eucalyptus. Its scent was potent and cloying and seemed to linger in the febrile breeze. She inhaled deeply again and again until her chest ached with the effort.

_It's beautiful. It really is._

The trees cast a dappled shade that was cool in the heat of the day. It was all just as Alison had described, except for the cherries which weren't in flower yet. Alison's tales of the past had eased her fear of the tunnels and the monsters that lay without.

The past that was now her present.

_Now to find a house with a white picket fence and a Mexican called Pedro in the window..._

And there it was! The house was set back about ten yards from the sidewalk. A low green box hedge neatly clipped bordered a path to the front door.

But no Pedro.

The window was bare. Except for something square and white in the corner. Riley peered closer. It was a sign that read:

Babysitter Wanted

Good Rates

Enquire Within

Babysitter? So that meant...

"Alison?"

Without quite realising how she got there Riley stood in front of the door and rang the bell once, twice, three times. Through the frosted window she could see movement. Light became shade became an opening door.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

A young woman. Mid-20s. Long brown hair held back by a scrunchy. An LA Galaxy sweatshirt and shorts. Legs tan and lightly muscled, like an athlete.

"Uh, yeah. I came about the sign. You're looking for a babysitter?"

The woman smiled. White even teeth. Her eyes were brown. _Alison's eyes. Maybe her nose too._

"Oh right. Come on in."

Riley stepped over the threshold of the house she'd heard about so many times she'd dreamt it was her own.

"Sorry about my outfit," Alison's mom said. "I was out back gardening. Can you believe this heatwave? I tell you, my tomatoes better be good this year."

"Did you know you can grow stripey ones?" Riley heard herself say.

"Stripey tomatoes?"

"Yeah. Bizarre, I know. But they're really tasty."

"I didn't know that. Thanks for the tip. Please, have a seat."

Riley sat on a plush sofa. The room was sparsely but tastefully furnished: sofa, two chairs, coffee table, mantle, a flat panel TV that hung on the wall like a slab of obsidian.

"Can I get you anything? Coke, Pepsi, 7Up - basically anything soda related?"

"I'm good. Thanks."

"Okay, why don't we start with your name and how old you are?"

"Right. Sorry. Riley Dawson. I'm sixteen."

"Any babysitting experience?"

"Sure, I look after my fost--my brothers and sisters all the time."

"Large family?"

"You bet."_ It's a freaking menagerie_.

"Must be nice for you."

"Sure is." _Gag me with a spoon!_

"Okay, the hours are three nights a week. About four hours each. I teach English as a second language at the local community college. Ten dollars an hour - and all the pretzels you can eat."

A baby began to cry in another part of the house.

"Excuse me. Sounds like we have company. Won't be a sec."

_Alison! I'm going to meet her again. Or for the first time. God, it was so complicated!_

"Here's the little madam."

A baby swaddled in pink blankets. Wispy brown hair, button nose, big brown eyes staring up at her uncomprehending.

"Would you like to hold her?"

"Please."

Riley Dawson held Alison Young tight to her chest and fought to control her raging emotions.

"She's...perfect."

"You haven't seen her diapers."

Riley looked up and suddenly saw Pedro, the sleepy sombrero wearing figurine, on the mantle. Not the window. "I love that doll. Did you get it in Acapulco?"

"Pedro? No. I've never been to Acapulco. I bought him in a thrift shop in North Hollywood."

_Oh Alison, you little fibber!_

"Can I ask why you chose the name, Alison?"

"Actually, there's a funny story to that. I couldn't make up my mind, but I knew I didn't want anything New Age. You know - Summer, River, Moongood - that sort of thing. Then I received a phonecall, a wrong number I presume, who asked for an Alison Young. I liked the sound of it and here we are."

"It suits her."

"I think so. Okay, Riley, if you'll give me your cell number I'll let you know in a day or so. I've got one more girl to see this afternoon and then I'll make my choice."

Riley got back in the Taurus, drove to the end of the street and stopped. She leant forward and rested her forehead on the top of the steering wheel.

_Why didn't I say something? Warn her. In sixteen years time a machine will murder your daughter and use her bodyform as a grotesque simulcrum, a killing machine intent on conquering the earth._

_Yeah, right. If I'd said that it was a tossup who she called first - the cops or the psych docs._

Riley looked up just in time to see a jeep drive past. At the wheel--

Her!

_Cameron!_

No way! No freaking way! Cameron in Palmdale - how?

_She followed you._

But why? I'm no threat to her.

_But you are to John. You're a liability. And they don't need much of an excuse to kill._

Did she see me?

_She will if you don't get the hell out of Dodge._

She floored the gas. The Taurus screeched away from the intersection, picking up speed as it headed up the on-ramp to the freeway. 50,60,70,80 the needle climbed higher. She weaved her way through slow moving traffic, slaloming like the rally driver she patently wasn't.

It was all too predictable.

She tail-ended a flatbed at 85mph. Brakes to the floor, the Taurus slammed into the steel guardrail, shedding speed and paint in equal measure. At 30, she regained control and steered into the correct lane, amazed she was still alive.

_Christ, am I trying to do Cameron's job for her?_

But something was wrong. There was an ominous shuddering coming from the left wheelarch. Her speed dropped to 20. She couldn't get home like this. The cops would spot her and pull her over. She didn't think her foster parents would press charges for autotheft, but she'd be in a shitload of trouble nonetheless.

_At least she's not following me._

Riley took the next off-ramp and pulled up at a cluster of buildings that included a gas station, auto workshop and a diner, stategically placed to garner passing trade from the freeway traffic. She brought the Taurus to a halt in front of the auto workshop and climbed out.

"Hello, anyone home?"

A mechanic strolled out to greet her. Old and fat in oil-stained overalls. He tilted his Dodgers cap back on his gnarled forehead. "Help you, miss?

"Yeah. The left front's not turning properly."

"Looks to me like you dinged the panel pretty bad. You in an accident?"

"Can you fix it?"

"Aye, just needs the panel beat out some. You sure you weren't in an accident?"

"How long to get me rolling again?"

"Two or three hours."

"I'll be in the diner."

Riley walked over to the roadside diner, went inside and sat down at a booth that afforded her an unrestricted view of the parking lot and the freeway beyond. A waitress arrived to take her order. She wore scuffed white Keds on her feet.

"Coffee. Black. And--"

A 4x4 sped past the diner heading west. She watched it with her eyes wide until it was safely out of sight.

"And what? Not got all day." the waitress asked impatiently, pencil poised over a small notepad.

"Uh - a cheese danish." She kept her gaze on the busy freeway outside the window.

"Expecting somebody, hon?" the waitress asked.

"God, I hope not."

Her order came. She paid with cash. She sipped the hot coffee slowly and picked chunks off the cheese danish, which tasted slightly stale. After an hour she began to relax slightly. Someone put a quarter in the jukebox and music blared out. Green Day. She liked Green Day. It was easy to lose yourself in their noise. Not have to think just groove to the riffing guitars and drums, not caring about anything or anyone.

A jeep pulled into the lot.

Riley sat bolt upright, music forgotten, eyes wide as saucers.

Cameron Baum got out of the jeep and walked purposefully toward the diner entrance.

For a moment Riley was back in the tunnels, cold and scared and frozen to the spot with fear.

_"Come on, Riles, we've got to move They're coming.."_

_"I can't!"_

_"You've got to."_

_"Alison, I'm afraid!"_

_"You and me both, kiddo. But when did that ever stop us?"_

Cameron entered the diner and scanned the occupants. When she spotted Riley she smiled, walked over and slid into the bench seat opposite.

"Riley."

"Cameron. Long time no see." _I'm damned if I'll let her see how freaked out I am_.

"Yes, it has been a long time since we saw each other. Six days eight hours."

"I've been busy."

"Doing what?"

"Just...stuff."

"I know." Cameron smiled. "Stuff can keep you busy, can't it?"

The waitress stood over them, pencil poised over her little pad. "What can I get you, honey?"

"Do you serve peachy-keen?" Cameron asked, smiling again. "It's my favourite."

"What's peachy-keen?"

"It's a soda drink," Riley explained.

"Oh. Okay, I'll go check."

Riley and Cameron faced each other in silence._ Like meeting this way in a truckstop outside Palmdale is the most natural thing in the world._

The waitress returned carrying a bottle on a tray.

"One bottle of peachy-keen."

"Thank you. It's my favourite."

"Yeah, you told me. Whoopeedoo. That'll be four-ninety. Service charge included."

Cameron handed over a five dollar bill. "Keep the change."

"Gee, thanks. Now I can put my feet up and retire to Barbados. Anything else? Refresh your coffee?" She gestured at Riley's empty cup.

"No. Thanks anyway."

The waitress left. "She seems nice," Cameron said.

"What?"

"The waitress. She seems nice. I hope she enjoys retirement."

"Whatever."

Cameron lifted the bottle of pinkish liquid to her lips and took a long swallow.

"Good?" Riley asked._ Like I care._

"Yes."

_That smile again. Creepy_. _And where does it go? Does she have like a cistern built in? Or does it just pass straight through and leave her sitting in a puddle_.

Cameron put the bottle down on the formica table top. She reached out and ran her index finger over the crumbs on the now empty dish.

"Cheese danish. Was it good?"

"It was okay."

"I can't eat cheese danish."

"Why not?"_ Because you're a freaking machine!_

"There are 650 calories in the average cheese danish." Cameron smiled ruefullly. "Goes straight to my thighs."

_Like hell it does, you lying freak!_

"I guess I'm lucky I've got a fast metabolism."

"You're twelve pounds heavier than when you first met John."

"I am?" _God, is it that obvious?_

"You should work out. Like me."

"You work out?"

"No one likes a blubberbutt."

Another swallow of peachy-keen. No puddle.

"What were you doing in Palmdale?"

_There. Finally, it's out in the open._

"Sight-seeing."

"There are no sights for you to see in LA?"

"Nope. And what were you doing in Palmdale?"

The cyborg's reply surprised her.

"Looking for a job."

"A job? You?"

"Yes."

"Did you find one?"

"A position became vacant. I filled it."

"What's the job?"

"Babysitter."

Without warning Riley vomited over the tabletop. Cameron leaned back and tilted her head, curious.

"Was it something I said?"

**-o0o-**

**Shock. Horror. A sympathetic Riley fanfic.**

**Personally I don't mind her. If John's too prudish to take advantage of a nubile fembot who'll obey his every whim then he probably deserves Riley.**

**Nothing in the tv show to suggest Riley's father was a resistance leader or that she knew Alison Young. But when have I ever let facts get in the way of a story? (See Desolation Road, Paper Tiger, etc.)**

**Oh, there is a stripey tomato. Didn't make it up. It's called Tigerella (natch). Looks good in salads. Apparently.**

**Thanks for reading. Hope you liked it. Let me know.**

**Stick around for chapter 2. Cameron and Riley kick off bigtime.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Strife of Riley**

**Chapter 2**

They were pretty good about it, condsidering. After all it wasn't the best advertisement for a diner when a customer pukes her guts out having just eaten their food.

"Dear Lord! Are you okay, hon?" The waitress was a picture of concern. "Was it the shrimp? Because I've told Murray a thousand times I don't trust that supplier. He might be cheap but---"

"It wasn't the shrimp," Riley assured her. "Is there somewhere I can freshen up?"

"There's a restroom out back. Want any help?"

"I'm fine. Really."

The restroom was small - just two basins and two toilet stalls, thankfully empty - but it was clean and smelt of pine disinfectant.

_Unlike me, who smells of puke._

Riley stared at herself in the mirror above the sinks. _God, I'm paler than ever_. She never seemed to tan, not even in the California sunshine. Perhaps it was all the years spent in the tunnels. The trogylydte lifestyle was turning her into an albino.

"At least I don't have pink eyes," she reassured her reflection.

_Yet._

She turned the faucet on and splashed her face with cold water. That felt a little better. There was vomit on the sleeve of her blouse.

"Oh gross!"

She unbuttoned and slipped it off, carefully holding the sleeve under running water and scrubbing with her fingers. The door behind opened and closed. She glanced up at the mirror.

_Her!_

Cameron tilted her head slightly in that familiar manner. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." _Like you care._

"You're fine?"

"Sure. I always barf when I'm having fun."

Cameron took a step forward. The restroom suddenly felt smaller than ever. Riley felt acutely vulnerable standing there in just bra and jeans.

"Your bra is too small."

"What?"

"It is a size too small," Cameron repeated.

"Like you said, I've gained weight."

The cyborg reached out and slid a finger under the left strap. "See these red marks? It means it is too small. It is cutting into your flesh."

"Just as long as it keeps the twins snug."

"Twins? Oh. You named your breasts."

"I didn't name them exactly." _This is too weird._

"I haven't named mine."

"Don't worry, its not compulsory."

Riley shut off the tap and hastily donned her blouse. It made her feel a little more secure. Cameron was staring at her own reflection in the mirror.

"D'you think I'm pretty?" she enquired.

"What?"

"D'you think I'm pretty?"

_"Oh Allison, you're the prettiest girl in the whole wide world!"_

_"Now, Riles, you exaggerate. Top Three, maybe."_

"Uh - you're okay."

"I think I'm better than okay."

"Ego much!"

"I think I'm beautiful."

"Ri-ght..."

"John thinks I'm beautiful."

"John told you that?"

"No, but he thinks it."

"Uh - isn't he, like, your brother?"

"He is like my brother."

"Well, then, you shouldn't say stuff like that."

"He loves me. And I love him. I told him so."

"You're kinda weirding me out here."

"Am I?"

"Yah huh." _You freak!_

She crossed to the hand driers, whacked the big silvery button and held the wet sleeve of her blouse under the sudden rush of warm air.

Cameron stared in wonder. "What are you doing?"

"Drying my sleeve, brainiac."

The cyborg pushed the button on the second drier and placed her hands under the warm jet.

"This is an inefficient use of energy."

"So? What d'you care?"

"Climate change. We need to save the planet."

"_You_ want to save the planet?"

"Yes. We should turn off all unnecessary appliances."

Riley shook her head in amazement. _I'd like to turn you off._

_Permanently._

-------------------

Leaving the diner behind with a great sense of relief, Riley crossed to the autoshop expecting to see the Taurus if not as good as new then at least roadworthy.

"Sonofabitch!"

The Taurus was exactly where she'd parked it two hours previously. No repair work had been carried out on it and there was no sign of the elderly mechanic.

"Dammit!"

She headed into the workshop itself. In an adjacent office she found the mechanic seated on a tatty Barcalounger staring up at a small TV showing a baseball game. He was eating a burrito, messily.

"Hey, why aren't you working on my car?"

"Lunchbreak, sweetheart," the mechanic told her, spraying food down his overalls. "Gotta keep my strength up."

"Unbe-_freaking_-lievable!"

Cameron appeared in the doorway. "What's wrong?"

"I'm getting my car fixed. Supposedly."

"Who's this?" the mechanic asked.

"She's with me," Riley admitted reluctantly.

"Is this baseball?" Cameron asked, staring up at the TV.

"Aye. ESPN Classic. Dodgers versus Giants."

"I like baseball."

"Right back attcha."

"Have you ever been hit by a baseball bat?"

"I've taken a few whacks, aye."

"Me too. I prefer to do the whacking."

Riley slipped away outside, going round to the rear of the building where she had some privacy. She took out her cell phone and dialed.

_"What's up, love?" _Jesse's voice.

"I'm having car trouble."

_"Shit happens. Where are you?"_

"Palmdale."

_"Palmdale? What the hell are you doing in Palmdale?"_

"Long story. No time."

_"Is John with you?"_

"No. She is."

_"Hell."_

"Yeah."

_"What's wrong with the car?"_

"Kaputnik. Can you come pick me up? I'm at a really shitty garage just off the freeway."

_"Jeez, love..."_

"Please..." Riley hated how desperate she sounded.

_"Okay. Hang tight. Be there in two ticks of a drongo's tail."_

"What?"

But Jesse had already hung up.

Man, Jesse was infuriatiing sometimes. It'd been different before. The two of them had been close, though not as close as Allison, but definitely an improvement on now. She supposed she should cut the Aussie some slack. She had her own problems to deal with. The wound in her abdomen still pained her, though Jesse was too stubborn to admit it. And it didn't seem to stop her sunbathing in a bikini by the pool, or less if there was no one around.

_Of course it helps if your skin isn't the colour of milk._

Negative much!

She had to stop getting so down on herself. She was her own worst enemy at times. And there were bigger enemies out there.

_Her_ for starters.

She returned to the office. Cameron was still staring at the TV. But the mechanic was now slumped in the Baraclounger, his head lolling at an odd angle. His half-eaten burrito was on the floor.

"What happened?"

"Dodgers are down by one in the third."

"Not the game. Him."

"He's dead."

"Dead? Omigod, how?" _Did you kill him, you bitch?_

"Heart attack. He was old and fat with clogged arteries."

"Shoudn't we call 911?"

"No. The Dodgers recover to win by two. It's a rerun."

"Not the game! The poor guy."

"Too late." Cameron smiled benignly. "He's with Jesus now."

**-0O0-**

**Bugger. **

**Riley's dead. She is an ex-Riley, she has ceased to be, expired and gorn to meet her maker, etc.**

**Makes this fanfic less than topical, Lol.**

**Still, I shall continue. It has its own little bubble of reality anyway. **


	3. Chapter 3

**The Strife of Riley**

**Chapter 3**

Riley was pretty certain Cameron had killed the garage mechanic. Okay, he'd been old and overweight and his diet probably not the healthiest - but to coincidentally die of natural causes in the presence of a terminator? No freaking way.

The puzzling bit was why.

_So there are no witnesses when she kills you._

She felt the familiar knot of anxiety form in her stomach. Just like the old days in the tunnels, that sense of utter hopelessness.

---------

_"My Daddy's dead!_

_A T-888 chopped off his head!_

_My Daddy's dead!_

_A T-888 chopped off his head!"_

_"Riley, what have I told you about singing that stupid song. Cut it out."_

_"You're not the boss of me!"_

_"Come here and eat your dinner."_

_"No! I hate you, Allison! You smell!"_

_"Oh baby, we all smell down here."_

_"I want to go home!"_

_"This tunnel is home. Now come eat. It's your favourite - squirrel. With a tin of pineapple chunks for dessert."_

_"What's a pineapple?"_

_"Fruit. You have to eat fruit to prevent scurvey and stop your teeth falling out. Haven't you been paying attention in school?"_

_"I hate school!"_

_"The teachers say you're not trying. And you're a smart girl. I know you are."_

_"Allison smells! Allison smells!"_

_"Can it. Now!"_

_"You hit me!"_

_"And I'm going to keep on hitting you until you stop behaving like this. Tough love. We don't have time for your petulence, Riley. This is a war. Now eat. There's nothing else until tomorrow, and maybe not then."_

_"Allison?"_

_"What?"_

_"You don't really smell."_

_"Give it time, babe. Give it time."_

_-----------_

Riley snapped out of it. Another walkabout! They were becoming more frequent. Proximity to Cameron didn't help; a perfect physical simulcrum of Allison Young, minus the emotional warmth. Allison had laughed with her, cried with her, hugged her when she was miserable, which was often after the death of her father. She couldn't imagine Cameron hugging anyone, unless it was to crush them to death. Not even John, who she'd professed to love back in the restroom.

_And how creepy was that?_

What did John see in her - beyond the obvious bodily attributes? Perhaps it was the fact that Cameron would protect him from harm and obey his any whim. What a temptation _that_ must be for a teenage boy!

_But I got there first, didn't I?_

Yes. That night in the jeep. Sure, she'd had to lie and steal and cajole to get him there in the first place - but so what? It worked. _I was his first_. Not the metal bitch. No one could take that away from Riley Dawson.

_Not even her._

Riley walked back to the forecourt of the autoshop and stared at the stricken Taurus. One of the front wheels had deflated. She realised she had no idea how to change it even if the rest worked. She was stranded until Jesse arrived to rescue her and that could be hours. What to do? Go back in the diner and wait? Maybe.

"What happened to your car?"

Her._ Guess the baseball's over._

"Fender bender. Looks worse than it is."

"Do you need a ride? I have the jeep." Cameron offered.

"Someone's coming to pick me up."

"Who?"

"Just someone."

"You'll be able to tell the police what happened."

"The police?"

"I called 911, like you suggested."

"I didn't suggest...Shit!"

This was bad. If the mechanic had been murdered, which was a slamdunk in her opinion, then she was prime suspect numero uno. And that was without the small matter of taking the Taurus without permission and not reporting an accident. She wasn't going to be able to talk her way out of this. Suddenly a ride with Little Miss Bloodbath wasn't looking so bad._ If she wants me dead why not kill me here? No witnesses_. It was a calculated gamble but what choice did she have?

"Is that ride still on offer?" she asked.

"Yes." Cameron smiled "We'll be able to talk about girl stuff."

_Freaking great._

Riley knew she needed some insurance before going anywhere. She'd call John, being careful not to divulge any details of where she was or why she was here, just let him know who she was with. Cameron probably wouldn't try anything if John knew they were together.

_Probably._

"Wait a second, okay." Riley flipped her cell open and dialed.

"Who are you calling?"

"John."

The cell beeped against her ear. Odd. She looked at the screen.

NUMBER NOT IN SERVICE

Weird. John always kept his cell swiched on. And he hadn't mentioned getting a new one.

"Problem?"

"No. It's gone to voicemail," Riley bluffed. "Hey, John, it's me, Riley. I'm with Cameron. We're heading home. See you soon."

She flipped it closed and smiled sweetly at the curious cyborg.

"Let's go, girlfriend."

**------------**

The jeep headed out of Palmdale with Cameron at the wheel and Riley a reluctant passenger. So far the journey was passing in silence; not punctuated with talk, girlie or otherwise.

_Suits me._

Despite herself Riley couldn't help marveling how Cameron kept the jeep travelling at precisely 55mph, exactly on the speed limit, not the slightest deviation faster or slower. She supposed it was a software thing. Or something really really anal.

"Is your shirt dry?"

"Pretty much."

"It's a tight shirt."

"Thanks."

"Does John like it?"

"John doesn't really notice the clothes I wear." _Or me truth be told_.

"You and John had sex in this jeep."

For a moment Riley couldn't believe her ears. "I...what did you say?"

"You and John had sex in this jeep."

_Busted!_

"I...Are you completely insane?" she bluffed. "Why would you even say something like that when it's obviously not true?"

"There are feetprints on the roof liner." Cameron pointed above her head. "Female. Size eight. You have size eight feet."

"I don't see anything," Riley told her, peering at the cloth liner._ But then I don't have lasers for eyes. _

"You have to know how to look."

"How'd you know they're mine? - And I'm not saying they are. They could belong to anyone. Your mom perhaps. She's kinda foxy for an oldie. Maybe she got some action."

"Mom has size ten feet."

Arms folded across her chest, Riley stared at the road ahead. She was stubbornly determined not to discuss her and John's...liason any further, especially not with her. _Is she jealous? Can she even feel an emotion? _Who knew. And she wasn't about to ask.

_"...waaah!"_

For one second Riley thought it was Cameron crying. But no. It sounded like a baby.

"Did you hear something?"

"No."

_"...waaaaah!"_

Again, but louder. "That sounds like a---" Riley twisted in her seat and peered at the back seats. There wedged in the footwell was a carrycot. And a small baby. Swaddled in a familiar pink blanket.

_Allison!_

"There's a baby in the back," Riley said, struggling to keep her voice calm. "Do you, uh, realise that?"

"Yes."

"What are doing with a baby?"

"It's my new job. I'm a babysitter."

"And you took the baby with you?"

"Yes."

"Where's the mother?"

"She's here."

"She is?"

"In the trunk."

**-000-**

**I'm assuming John and Riley...you know. We see them snogging then - nothing. Damn Network TV!**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Strife of Riley**

No sooner had Riley Dawson digested the appalling news that Cameron had kidnapped the infant Allison Young and in all probability murdered the child's mother and stuffed her in the trunk, than the cyborg casually dropped another bombshell.

"You are from the future."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Riley demanded nervously._ She knows!_

"You travelled back via a Skynet time portal."

"That's crazy talk. Sky-what? You're really starting to lose it bigtime, you know that?"

"When I touched your skin in the diner restroom my sensors registered your body has a radiation level fifteen percent higher than average."

"You're out of your mind."

"Derek Reese is the same. The thermo-nuclear exchange during Judgement Day caused background radiation to rise by fifteen percent above the norm. You are from the future."

"Ever think of writing a book? You'd be a natural for fairy stories. Or science fiction."

Cameron turned to face her, expression impassive. "It is probable you know what I am."

"Yeah, a total nutjob."

"What is your mission?"

"Go screw yourself."

"I cannot comply."

"Try harder."

"It involves John. I cannot permit this."

_Oh God, she's going to terminate me right now!_

"But John will not permit me to kill you."

"That's right. He wouldn't. You're his sister. His _sister."_

"Accidents happen. People vanish all the time."

Riley sat in stunned silence. Suddenly her stupid foster parents and bickering step-siblings weren't looking so bad after all.

_Out of the frying pan into the fire. Story of my life._

She looked around for some sort of weapon and noticed the doors weren't locked. Perhaps she could jump clear and escape? At 55mph? Suicide. Perhaps if she curled up into a very tight ball---

"To leap from a vehicle travelling at this speed there is a 69 per cent chance you would die instantly," Cameron informed her, interpreting her thoughts. "An 86 per cent chance you would sustain life threatening injuries."

Riley found herself nodding. Lousy odds. And she wouldn't have jumped anyway. Abandon Allison to this monster? Never.

Cameron activated the lock mechanism, removing any lingering temptation.

She took the next off-ramp and drove until reaching open countryside. Presently the jeep slowed and turned onto an access road, little more than an overgrown dirt track. Riley caught a glimpse of a metal sign peppered with bullet holes from trigger happy passers by. It was still legible.

**BURNAM QUARRY**

**DREXXEL CORPORATION**

**PROPERTY**

**KEEP OUT**

_Accidents happen. People vanish all the time._

The cyborg brought the jeep to a halt ten yards shy of a large iron gate, part of a chainlink perimeter fence that stretched away on either side. She got out, taking the ignition keys with her and began to break down the gate with her bare hands.

_I don't have much time._

With trembling hands Riley popped the glove compartment, hoping to find a spare set of keys. Nothing. Instead a heavy gun fell onto the floor. She picked it up. A Glock. Semi-automatic. She remembered them from the tunnels. The children were taught to field-strip and maintain such weapons from an early age. And how to fire them. Riley had been bottom of the class. Guns made her queasy.

_"You must learn to shoot, Riley."_

_"But I hate guns. Please don't make me, Allison."_

_"Look, I'll show you. Flip this lever here and the clip ejects. Ram a fresh one home like so. Slide the breach and there's a live round in the chamber. Aim and squeeze the trigger. Here, you try."_

_"No!"_

_"You've got to learn to defend yourself."_

_"No, I don't. I'll just run away and hide."_

_"You can't run forever. Eventually you have to stand your ground."_

_"But I can hide real good. I can. I swear."_

Riley pushed the Glock between the belt of her jeans and the bulge of her stomach. The metal felt cold against her flesh. She reached behind the seats and carefully lifted Allison's carrycot and placed it on her lap. The child was still asleep. A plan had formed in her mind but she would have to time it perfectly.

_Or I'm as good as dead._

The heavy gate fell forwards, wrenched off its hinges by the terminator's inhuman strength. Cameron turned and walked back to the jeep. Just before she opened the door Riley leapt out the other side and sprinted for the open gate, the carrycot held clumsily in her arms. There was no point in heading for the road; Cameron would simply drive after her. But the quarry held a myriad of hiding places.

_I can hide real good. I can. I swear._

She would have to. Her life depended on it.

-------------------

As she fled into the quarry Riley didn't know, would never know, that the Drexxel Corporation, a vast business conglomorate, had mothballed Burnam Quarry months go until such time as the construction industry recovered from the economic downturn and made it viable to reopen. The closed circuit security cameras that might have alerted someone to her presence had been removed. There was simply nothing here worth stealing.

But there were buildings; prefabricated sheds and hangers used to house and repair the excavating equipment. They were vast, with thin aluminum sides that echoed as Riley searched frantically for that one perfect hiding place where she and Allison would be safe until she could contact Jesse again to come and rescue them.

_There must be somewhere!_

More by luck than design, she chanced on the administration building. This too had been gutted, but at least the rooms were smaller and more numerous. One room had a row of empty metal file cabinets lined up against a wall. A calendar hung from a hook above.

DREXXEL CORPORATION

WISHES EVERY EMPLOYEE A HAPPY AND PROSPEROUS 2008

Underneath, scrawled in ballpoint pen, some disgruntled employee had written:

WISHES DON'T PAY MORTGAGES

Riley pulled out the bottom left file drawer. It was just big enough to take the carrycot. She placed it inside and pushed it closed leaving an half inch airgap. Baby Allison seemed so peaceful that Riley wished she could squeeze in there as well.

_No such luck._

She paused at the door and whispered, "I'll be back."

_Or someone will._

There was no sign of Cameron outside, but Riley was sure she was out there somewhere, lying in wait, probably enjoying the hunt and the fact that she was the prey

_She's always hated me. Because of John._

John...

She took out her cell and dialed John's number. He was the only person who could call Cameron off.

CELL NOT IN SERVICE

"Dammit!"

She headed toward six large oil tanks that were linked together vertically like some enormous sixpack. Pipes as big as her thighs snaked off to various parts of the site. Careful not to make too much noise she squeezed herself underneath and prayed the metal sides didn't interfere with cell reception.

_One bar. One freaking bar!_

It would have to suffice. She tapped out Jesse's number.

_"How's it going, love?"_ The australian sounded cheerful.

"There's been a change of plan. I'm not in Palmdale."

_"Where then?"_

"Burnham Quarry."

"_Hold on a sec..." _Riley heard the sound of a map being unfolded. She could picture Jesse spreading it out over the steering wheel as she drove. _"Gotcha. Hey, I'm not far away."_

"Please hurry!"

_"Why, what's the matter, babe?"_

Riley found herself telling Jesse everything, from the time Allison guided her to safety in the tunnels until the moment she fled the jeep with the infant Allison in her arms. It was a stripped down version of course; there was no time for anything detailed.

_"You're telling me that...thing looks like Allison Young? They stole her identity. And now you have Allison Young with you?"_

"Not with me. She's hidden."

_"And you never mentioned any of this to me? Or anyone? I never thought the metal was modeled on an actual person. Shit, perhaps they all are."_

"I don't know about any others, but she's the exact duplicate of Allison. It freaks me out just looking at her."

_"I'll bet. Okay, love, keep your head down. The cavalry's on its way."_

Riley ended the call but kept the cell clutched in her hand. Its soft green glow was comforting. The space under the fuel tanks was cramped and dark and reminded her all too readily of the tunnels.

_Don't think about the tunnels._

Something scurried across her hand._ Spiders! I freaking hate spiders! _In the tunnels one of the other children had told her that at night spiders crawled over your face as you slept and drank from your eyeballs. Nightmares much! Allison had finally managed to calm her by explaining spiders didn't drink, they absorbed moisture from the air through their bodies. Still kinda gross, but way better than sucking your eyeballs dry while you were sleeping.

_I hope Allison doesn't wake up and start crying. Will the metal file cabinet and closed doors prevent Cameron from hearing her? _She didn't know. Their hearing was good, but not superhuman.

She hugged her knees to keep warm. The sun was low now; just a few hours of daylight remained._ And she has infra-red. She can see in the dark._

"Please hurry, Jesse."

Riley didn't think she'd ever felt this alone and vulnerable in her life. But that wasn't true, was it...

-------------

_"Where's Allison?"_

_"Well well, look what the cat dragged in. Riley Dawson."_

_"Where's Allison? I can't find her."_

_"You bailed on your chores again, Dawson. It's your job to change the air filters twice a week. If they clog up we'll all suffocate down here. You've been warned enough times."_

_"Where's Allison Young?"_

_"People cut you a lot of slack because your father was a great war hero who held the line to the bitter end, but you're trying everyone's patience. Dammit, those filters---"_

_"WHERE'S ALLISON!"_

_"Christ, you don't care, do you? Long as Teen Queen Riley's all right then---"_

_"If you don't tell me where Allison is right this minute I'm gonna scream and tell people you tried to rape me. You know what they do to rapists, Desmond? They put them up top. Outside. Without weapons."_

_"You wouldn't dare."_

_"Try me."_

_"Bitch! Okay, Allison left the tunnels this morning at dawn."_

_"Why didn't she tell me?"_

_"Probably ordered not to. Word is she's been seconded to Connor HQ."_

_"But that's the other side of the city. Past...them."_

_"Apparently Connor himself requested her. See, that's what happens when you do your job properly. You get noticed and rewarded by the brass hats."_

_"Rewarded? She could be killed. Or captured. What will I do then? I'll fall apart. I know I will."_

_"There you go again, Dawson. Only thinking of yourself."_

-----------------

And she had fallen apart; no use to anyone until Jesse found her and brought her here from Hell.

_Plus la change_, Riley thought grimly.

_"Riley? Where are you? It's me, John. It's safe to come out now. I've called Cameron off. She's become a liability. I'll have her deactivated."_

John!

Jesse must have contacted him and explained. She was safe.

"John! Oh God, I've been so scared. I am _so_ happy to see you!"

Riley came out of her hiding place and ran in the direction of John's voice. She turned the corner of a building and found...

_Her!_

"Hello Riley," Cameron greeted her with John's voice. "Long time no see."

The terminator reached out a hand.

Riley screamed.

**-000-**

**I should point out that while this story has some humour it's not meant to be a 'Secret Diary'-style comedy. Nothing funny about a young mother being killed. For all her charms Cameron's a cold-eyed killer.**

**One chapter to go.**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Strife Of Riley**

Riley screamed and turned to run. The cyborg grabbed a fistful of shirt and pulled; Riley's momentum propelling her in the opposite direction. The buttons of her shirt burst open. She wriggled free and ran for her life.

Cameron stared emotionless at the balled garment in her fist then tossed it aside. She set off in pursuit at an unhurried pace. They were heading away from the buildings, away from any possible hiding place. It was just a matter of time now.

_Stupid! So freaking stupid!_ Riley berated herself. _Of course they can mimic voices. I knew that. Yet I almost walked - hell, I ran - straight into a trap._

The buildings receded behind her. She was in the quarry proper now. Vast mounds of gravel and shale spoil lined the rutted roadways normally traversed by earth-moving vehicles. They towered above her, huge dunes that seemed endless, like a desert or a desolate shingle beach with the tide out.

Riley glanced behind her. There she was. Not even hurrying.

_She doesn't need to. There's nowhere to run here._

She felt a stitch beginning in her side. _So soon? I'm not even putting up much of a fight_.

The roadway ended with a chainlink fence, rusty in places but sturdy enough. Climb? No, she'd be plucked off the wire like a ripe fruit. Instead she veered right, up the slope of the gravel spoil, her footing unsure and panicky. Bambi on ice!

_Crunch! Crunch!_

Cameron was following. Riley risked another glance behind and was gratified to see that the cyborg was finding the going just as treacherous, legs sinking up to her knees in gravel.

_They're heavier than us. Perhaps I can put some distance between us and circle back to the buildings._

She crested the rise and was astonished to find herself looking down at a huge crater several hundred yards across with a peagreen lake at the center. This must be where they quarried whatever aggregate they quarried. Neglect had allowed rain and groundwater to fill this vast hole in the ground. _ Perhaps I could swim out to the middle_?_ They don't swim. _No. The water seemed placid enough but it would be cold and deeper than it appeared, and the sides were steep. Once in she'd never get out again. _Perhaps I could----_

Falling!

Her right leg gave way and she fell sprawling on her back, sliding backwards down the slope towards the water. The coarse gravel scoured her bare flesh, grinding, purging. Her bra clasp burst open but that was the least of her worries. She was heading for the water and certain death. Frantically she dug her heels in and managed to arrest the slide. The loose fines enveloped her, cascading over her breasts to fill her nose and eyes. For a second she was blind, then blinked and wished she was.

"Oh please, no!"

Cameron stood over her. From somewhere she'd found a long iron bar and now raised it above her head.

_It's over!_

_**BOOM! click BOOM!**_

The first shotgun blast missed entirely. The second managed only a glancing blow. But on the treacherous loose ground it was enough. Cameron lost her balance and rolled sideways down the slope, still gaining speed as she entered the water and disappeared below the surface.

Jesse stood on the crest. A dark silhouette. Black jeans. Black vest. Dark sunglasses. She cradled the shotgun and quipped, "What's with the topless show, love?"

"She tore my shirt off."

"Kinky. Put 'em away, there's a good girl."

Riley covered what needed covering. "Is she dead?"

"Doubt it. They're tough buggers to kill. But that looks a bloody deep hole. We've got a decent headstart if nothing else."

"If you hadn't come when you did..."

"You know me, babe. Never miss a good tear up. Now, where's this bambino I've heard so much about? I'd like to meet the girl who grows up to be a monster."

--------------------------------------

"Broken neck. Standard MO. Quiet. No mess. Least it was quick. She didn't suffer.

Jesse and Riley stared at the body of Allison Young's mother stowed in the jeep's trunk.

"She's nice," Riley said sadly. "She grows tomatoes."

"Not any more."

Jesse blew out the tires with her pistol then joined Riley and Allison in her car. She'd given Riley a socceroos sweater to wear. Allison lay sleeping in her carrycot.

"You realise your cover's blown. You can't see John anymore."

Riley found she didn't really care that much and thought the feeling was probably mutual. "I did it, you know. With him. Twice."

"Good for you, love. So how was the man of legend? Did he measure up?"

"Oh he measured up all right."

Jesse and Riley grinned at each other, suddenly like two carefree single girls with nothing on their minds but the weekend and the boys they'd meet. It didn't last.

"What did she want with the baby?"

"Who knows? Their minds work different from ours. Nothing good I'll bet."

"What are we going to do about Allison?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Orphanage?"

"Dead on Jay Day. And from what you've told me she's a valuable asset in the future."

"What then?"

"You've got to look after her. Raise her as your own. Do a Sarah Connor and teach her all the stuff she'll need to survive."

"I can't raise a baby!"

"Sure you can, love. I'll give you some diamonds. Half a mill ought to buy a house and a new identity. What you do after that's up to you."

"I can't, Jesse."

"There's no else. And no one better suited. Think about it."

_She's right. There is no one better suited. All I have to do is teach Allison the things she taught me. Ironic. Or something deeper. Synchronicity perhaps. Our roles reversed, fate inverted._

"Three quarters of a million," she wheedled. "And a brand new car."

Jesse smiled. "That's my girl."

Behind them Allison Young began to cry. She'd pooped her diaper.

Shit happens.

Inevitably.

**-0-**

**CODA**

Night. The moon shone out of a cloudless sky making the surface of the quarry lake appear as flat as a mirror.

_Splash!_

A hand breaks the surface, ending the illusion and creates small ripples that radiate away. An arm follows, then a head, and finally Cameron Baum hauls herself from the depths. It has taken six hours. The water was deep and the sides steep and precarious. Twice she'd almost made it out only for a landslide to send her plummeting almost all the way to the bottom. But she perseveres. She knows neither frustration or despair, nor will she countenance failure. She is a terminator. She will be back. Always.

On the crest of the gravel spoil she surveys the quarry, scanning in all spectrums. Infra-red reveals tiny white blobs that are most likely nocturnal mammals foraging. She ignores them, just as she ignores the jeep with its four flat tires. Instead she heads for the acess road and the highway beyond.

It is never difficult for a pretty teenage girl in wet clingy clothing to hitch a ride. No sooner does Cameron reach the main road than a red Mustang draws up and a fratboy in a letterman jacket leans out and yells, "Hey baby, wanna ride?"

She says nothing, simply opens the passenger door and gets in.

"What happened to you? Win a wet tee shirt contest?" The fratboy chortles at his own wit. Buzzed on cheap alcohol, he feels things are slotting into place. _School's out and now this fine slice of cherry pie falls into my lap. Ni-ce... _The future beckoned before him like a bright empty highway.

Cameron removes her sodden shirt and drops it out the window. She notices her companion leering. "You like the twins? I named them. It's not compulsory."

"Sweet!"

"Take off your jacket and give it to me."

The fratboy eagerly complies; at that moment he'd have given her everything he owned.

"Anything else? Name it, babe. It's yours."

"I want your car."

She grasps the steering wheel in one hand and his throat in the other and begins to squeeze.

The bright future recedes to a diminishing point of light.

And is extinguished.

**THE END**

**I deliberately kept Cameron's motives for kidnapping baby Allison mysterious - just as it would seem to Riley whose POV it is. Sometimes you don't need to fill in all the blanks.**

**Don't think the timelines are disturbed. It's still possible Allison Young will be captured by Skynet and 'become' Cameron, so to speak.**

**Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it. Let me know.**


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